


Jason's Not Dead Again

by audreycritter



Series: Cor Et Cerebrum [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Jason Todd is still not dead!, comfort!fic, spin-off/companion to a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreycritter/pseuds/audreycritter
Summary: Companion piece to Developmental Milestones, covering the gap between chapters twenty and twenty-one from Bruce's perspective.





	

The entire manor is quiet, full of sleeping people even at 11 in the morning. They'd gotten Jason home and into bed with painkillers and antibiotics; the others had come home, updates had been shared, and for thirty straight minutes showers all over the house had run hot water from the massive twin heaters in the basement.

Bruce had left the suit in the Cave but he had officially changed and showered last, after seeing that Dick was okay and didn't need anything, that Damian was okay and clean and put in bed, that Stephanie knew she was definitely staying in Cass' room and not going back to her apartment alone, that Cass was not lying about being in one piece, that Alfred was actually as alright as he claimed and would sleep to be useful later, that Tim...

Tim, he'd had to carry to bed from the hallway outside the guest room where Dev was sleeping, after he and Alfred had gotten the man into the shower with clean clothes and a towel on a bathroom counter and then thrown the blood-blackened trousers and button-up away afterward. Dev said he was fine, kept saying he was fine, but Tim hadn't wanted to leave the door anyway.

Then Bruce had showered and changed, watching the last remnants of red trickle down the drain.

He’d gone straight to Jay’s room after that and that’s where he sits now, watching the antibiotic _drip drip drip_ into the IV tube.

Just staring.

_Drip drip drip._

Like a heartbeat.

Impulsively, he reaches forward for Jason’s wrist and feels for the pulse, just to make sure.

_Thrump thrump thrump._

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes under his own hands, he’d compressed Jay’s heart and cracked a rib, while the heart would not beat on its own.

And now it feels like his own heart has stopped.

He was almost too late.

Again.

 _“...and you can tell me how it is that this boy almost died for the second time…_ ” Dev had said, sounding angry. Sounding pissed.

Bruce swallows.

His heart is still stiff in his chest.

Jason’s heart is still beating, the pulse still _thrump thrump thrump_ under his fingers pressed to the boy’s wrist.

He moves his hand to run it through Jason’s hair, pushing it back from the gauze taped over a wound there. It’s still so soft, after all these years. Dick’s hair is coarser now than it used to be, Tim’s is always knotty with tangles or twisted strands. But Jay’s hair is as soft as it was when he was younger.

Bruce leans forward to kiss the boy’s forehead, that’s all he plans to do, all he’s going to do, but he doesn’t sit back up.

He’s crying, salt stinging his lips as tears cut paths down his face.

His hand is still in Jason’s hair and it takes conscious effort not to clutch it, to wrap his fingers around sheet instead.

How the hell does this almost happen twice?

“Bruce?” he can hear Jason’s voice from right next to his face and from far away at once.

“I’m so sorry, Jay,” he says, his gasp turning into a sob. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“Bruce,” Jason says again, his voice still quiet. “Hey.”

It is another full minute before his heart is beating like it should, before his chest doesn’t feel like it’s imploding, before his raw and scratching throat settles and the sobs subside. He doesn’t lift his head, but he turns it a little, his forehead against Jason’s cheek. It’s rough with just the shadow of stubble.

He sighs.

“I’m so sorry, Jay,” he says again. “This never should have happened. To anyone, but especially to you.”

“Words words words,” Jason says in reply. It’s Hamlet. Then he says, still quietly; they’re both whispering even though they’re rooms away from anyone else in the massive house. “I know. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

Jason leans his cheek into Bruce’s hair and makes a small, contented noise.

“Just stay with me,” he says. “For a bit.”

“Of course,” Bruce says, wiping at his face with one hand. “Do you need anything else? Water?”

“No,” Jason says, not moving. “Just you.”

“I can’t lose you again,” Bruce says, the words almost inaudible even to himself. He clears his throat a little; his words seem too little for what they are. “I love you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jason whispers back. “I love you, too, B. I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s a slight tremble along Jason’s arm when he says this and Bruce lifts his head now, really looks at this boy that is his son. Jason has sounded so reassuring, so confident, even while Bruce knows he must be aching all over. But the eyes that look back at him in the room curtained against the sunlight are still full of fear. If the night was hell for Bruce, it was worse for Jason.

“Don’t move,” Bruce says, and he half stands next to the bed, slides his arms underneath Jason and gently scoots him over. Then he climbs into bed next to him and wraps his arms around him, holding him.

Holding him the way he should have gotten to do years ago. Scared and needful but alive.

“Your arms okay?” Bruce asks, settling his head against the pillow.

“Yeah,” Jason says, and he’s pressed into Bruce, into the arms wrapped around him. He’s still trembling.

“Shh,” Bruce says, kissing the boy’s hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Words he should have been able to say years ago.

“I’ve got you,” he says again. “It’s alright.”

The trembling gradually lessens and after a few minutes, Bruce hears the boy’s breathing even out. He holds him, even then, awake and awake and awake, thinking he won’t sleep at all, until he’s awake one minute and asleep the next, still holding on.


End file.
